1689, Trial of the Witch

Gothic Knights

On mid-fall, to the north, year 1689
 Lived a young, strange woman, high upon a hill
 Her house, full of mirrors, candles all lit inside
 Stairway down to the basement, locked and hidden from sight
 But when the children got sick superstitions fly
 No clue of the horror to come

 Angry mob breaks her door down, smashing all inside
 the preacher climbs the stairs down, cringes at what he finds
 Pentagram circled by fire, human sacrifice
 Caught praying to the other side

 Burn the witch, tie her to the pyre, town rages on, cleanse with fire

 The wind now rises, thunder cracks the sky
 ghost from the fire, fury mirrored in her

 The town now flees in terror, preacher is left behind
 Falls into the black pit called Hell
 Blinded in your dreams, lost souls for me to keep
 Laughing in your sleep, can you feel my stare

 I will return, one day, you'll see
 As a ghost or in the flesh
 I will haunt you, I will roam